Today Daphne asked me, "Mommy, where does Santa live?" And suddenly I realized that my oldest child is getting to the age of asking questions about things that might force me to lie through my teeth for years. I'm about to launch her headlong down the rabbit hole of fantasy and deception and magical happiness beyond all measure. Am I up to the task? Are my fibbing skills sufficiently honed to keep up this charade for a decade or more?
I can honestly say that I have no memory of ever believing in Santa. I'm sure I must have at some point. But I can't remember it. I don't remember finding out he wasn't real either. I just don't remember anything about Santa until I was in my early teens and my mom asked me to help wrap presents. She told me to write "From Santa" on some. This didn't alarm me, so I must have known by then at least. But the event of actually finding out evidently didn't traumatize me enough to even remember it.
So I ask you, what do you tell your kids? The truth or that Santa is real? And when do you stop? When are they old enough to be told there is no Santa? And if they hear it from others, do you give in or keep up the charade? Red pill or blue pill...which is it?
